When he walked out of the hospital, Su Dajiang already felt that his wound was much better, and the sharp pain from before was gone.
He could even straighten his back and his steps were faster.
"Husband, if your wound hurts, walk slower. We aren't in a rush to go home," cautioned Wei Guiqin when she saw that he was walking faster, for fear that his wound would aggravate.
"I think that it's strange, too. Our daughter's words seem to be magical. She said that it should stop hurting, and it really did!" Su Dajiang found it inconceivable.
It was not as if he had not been injured before. After the stitches were removed, the wound still hurt for a while.
Not this time, though.
Wei Guiqin rolled her eyes. "Enough with you two. Are you done? Your daughter's words have become holy words from the Buddha's scripture? Listening to her can cure all illnesses and pain?"
"Don't say that; it really is so." He laughed dryly.
